Quiet Space
by Dragon'sHost
Summary: Midnight finds a quiet place to nap. Except that Minerva still needs the kitchen, and now there's someone sleeping on the flour. Armada project: 9/365


**I'm telling you, I _live_ for domestic stuff. It's not easy for me to write, for some reason... but I still love it.**

 **These two are members of _Team Had Bad Dads_ and _Team Fluffy Coats._ There is a lot of overlap in the members of those two teams, interestingly enough. I also ship all of the members of both teams together interchangeably, of course.**

* * *

Minerva stared down at the man sleeping on her sacks of flour. The sacks of flour that she needed to use. Right now. Honestly, who did that? Just... plopped down on a bunch of not-soft-in-the-least bags and... conked out?

If she wasn't mistaken, this was the man that had accompanied Yukino's sister on her visit this time. Then he had promptly vanished, not a single strand of his two-toned hair to be seen anywhere. So this was where he'd gotten to. What was his name again? Minerva hadn't quite caught it - but she thought it might start with M.

Well, regardless, he needed to _go_. She would prefer it if he vacated her domain immediately, but if he was so tired that he slept on _flour_ , of all things, there was a high chance he wouldn't make it to the exit and then she'd just have to step over or on top of him in order to continue with her baking. Compromising, she nudged his shoulder with her toe, experience having taught her that bending down to shake someone awake was a good way to accidentally get slugged in the face (oh how Sting suffered for that).

"Hey," she said, as the man cracked open a hazy red eye at her. "I need one of those sacks." Obligingly, he shifted slightly allowing her to extract one of the bags from the pile. "Thank you."

He watched as she took the item to the counter, filling up a waiting container. "You aren't going to shoo me out?" he questioned, re-situating himself on the altered pile.

"Keep out of my way, and you can do whatever you want," Minerva stated, rolling up the now empty sack for disposal. "Though if you want to make yourself useful..."

"Macbeth," he offered. "Though Midnight works, too."

Minerva nodded. "Macbeth - if you feel up to it, you can play taste tester for me." She gestured to a cake sitting on the counter. "Trying to perfect a recipe, but I could use a second opinion on the tester cake."

Macbeth eyed the towering confection. "...This is the tester."

"Is there a problem?" The warning in her voice was clear, and the glance she shot him was sharp.

"It has three layers," he pointed out, unfazed. "What are you planning to do with the extra?"

A sardonic smile spread across her face. "It's chocolate. Rogue will make sure it doesn't go to waste."

Macbeth snorted at that. "Never underestimate a dragon slayer's stomach."

With a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes, Minerva began to measure out ingredients. "Never underestimate Rogue's love of chocolate."

Hauling himself to his feet, Macbeth stretched. Then he made his was over to the counter, plunking down in a stool before the gorgeous pastry. Even if it was meant as a test cake only, Minerva had put quite a lot of effort into it from what Macbeth could see. There were even pink flowers piped all around.

He pointed to the sweet object. "'I'm sorry'?" he read off, amused, turning to stare at Minerva's stiff back.

Minerva didn't look at him. One of her hands held onto a bowl, and with the other she briskly whisked the contents. "I'm making it as an apology to someone," she said slowly. "It would be somewhat pointless if I went through all this effort, only to mess up on the piping because I neglected to practice that as well as the rest."

"Ah." He didn't say anything further. Instead, he took the knife she left sitting beside it to cut off a slice. In so doing, he revealed a pink ribbon laced through the chocolate. Then he transferred it to a small, waiting plate; after which he took a small fork, and tried his first bite.

Macbeth froze.

Not hearing the tell-tale sounds of eating, Minerva finally glanced over at the kitchen interloper.

Only to find him with fork still in his mouth, and eyes closed. After a minute, he opened them again and met her gaze. "Whoever the final one is for is a lucky person." Macbeth then continued to eat the cake, as if he hadn't been caught completely blissing out over a sweet.

Minerva smiled, and returning to preparing the final version. This time with more strawberry ribbon... and fewer layers. Her guest was on his third slice by the time she popped the cake into the oven. Wiping her hands on a moist towel, she joined him at the counter.

Wordlessly, he pushed an already cut piece of cake on a plate towards her. She took it with a nod of thanks.

Several minutes passed in companionable silence, though neither minded the quiet. Minerva often preferred the stillness of the guild kitchen to the hubbub of activity in the guild's main area, and she suspected her companion was also a fan of quiet.

After putting away a total of five pieces of cake (still nowhere near Rogue's standing record, let alone Erza's), Macbeth seemed to finally be done with the dessert. "Whoever gets that will definitely forgive you," he stated quietly.

Minerva laughed softly, propping her chin up in her hand. "Actually, she already has. But what I did to her was... horrible. So I felt the need to do something more. In the end, this is more to satisfy my own guilty conscience."

Macbeth could only shrug in response. "Can't say I'm unfamiliar with the concept."

"I'm Minerva, by the way." She held out her free hand for him to take, and he did so after a slight hesitation.

"Nice to meet you."


End file.
